“No! And by thunder, you ain’t got all that’s coming to you, neither,” growled Jud.
Mr. McGowan leaned heavily against Hank Simpson. As it was apparent that his mind was beginning to clear, Sim Hicks came closer.
“Are you ready to call quits and stop your damned meddling in my affairs?” persisted the Innkeeper.
Mr. McGowan shook his head, slowly. Then, with a start, he straightened. Between the uprights of the stair-banister he had see 104 two faces peering down into the room. As his vision cleared a little more he saw that one face was set between silky chops.
Captain Pott had not taken his eyes from the minister’s face, but now he followed the direction of his startled gaze.
“If it ain’t that damned menagerie, Fox and Beaver!”
One of the two figures slipped up and out. The other, deeply engrossed, did not budge. The Captain gave a mirthless chuckle and quietly crept up the stair. He seized the heels of Mr. Beaver, dragged him bumping down the stair, and dropped him beneath one of the lights. He gripped the little man’s collar, glanced menacingly into the distorted face, and remarked:
“Paying off some of them infernal debts you spoke of?”
“L-Let m-m-me g-go! L-Looking’s f-f-free, ain’t it?” His thin voice rose with each word till it reached a hissing shriek.
“Yes, the show seems to be free. And if I’m any judge, it’s just begun, so you may as well come down for it all.”